


Innocence Died Screaming

by itsarealpity



Series: Geraskier Works [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Brainwashing, Geralt and Jaskier Reunion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Saves Jaskier | Dandelion, M/M, Mind Control, Post-Canon, Prostitution, Sex Magic, Sexual Slavery, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Submissive Jaskier, captured Jaskier, non consensual mind control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:55:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22972096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsarealpity/pseuds/itsarealpity
Summary: “Enchanted to be your perfect companion for as long as your coin stretches, these perhaps are my finest works yet. Each with their own talents, you will be assured to have the best experience of your life with one of these,” the man carried on and finally gestured to the stairs up to the stage.Geralt rolled his eyes at the noises the crowd gave in anticipation that only fueled this man’s ego even more. Enchanted whores? People really came up with the damndest things these days to occupy their time.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Geraskier Works [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1650880
Comments: 17
Kudos: 645





	1. The Sale

Six months. 

Six months had passed in silence. 

It was at first a relief, but gradually grew into an emptiness settled heavy upon Geralt’s shoulders. It weighed and weighed on him until he found himself humming one night with only a fire and the stars above him to listen. The song that once terrorized his brain was now just a tune escaping between The Witcher’s lips. Slowly the chorus gently filled the chilly night air and before he knew it, he was singing to the tune he set before.

Geralt would never admit to being lonely. He needed no one, that he had decided when he sent Jaskier away. But a man can only travel alone for so long after being accustomed to a certain kind of presence. He had not his bard. Occasionally there would be mentions of his songs at inns or through small towns and it would drive The Witcher away, unable to hear the merry voices singing along to the absent man’s poetry. Never would he admit to feeling a sense of longing for anyone let alone the big mouthed, overly curious, loud musician. No, even as he mumbled along to his lyrics, he still wouldn’t admit it to himself. He needed no one. It was cold that night.

He couldn’t remember falling asleep but his hunger woke him at dawn. It wasn’t far to the next town so he packed up his gear and settled onto Roach for the short journey. It was a rather busy town and a wealthy one from the looks of it. Geralt usually didn’t usually pass through such places but he needed food. His purse was heavy from the last head he had strapped to Roach’s saddle so it wouldn’t be an issue. 

After a decent meal and something to quench his thirst, he decided to do what he did best and listen to the people in the room for any whispers or talk of any monsters that needed dealt with. One such conversation at the table next to his did catch his interest however, although it was not monster related. Instead, two men were speaking about an event to be held in the square today. Someone simply referred to as “Darian” was bringing some Mindlings to town to be sold. In all of Geralt’s time travelling the continent, he had never heard of such a thing. Unfortunately the two caught him listening at that point and cursed at him as they removed themselves from their table.

Geralt looked out the window to the square down the road and saw groups of people flocking to a wooden stage set up against the back of a large building. Curious, the man left and followed the road and it’s townsfolk as they clotted into a crowd. Men held purses at the ready so perhaps these Mindlings were for sale. Geralt’s mind immediately went to slavery and his intrest dropped. Just as he was about to turn and leave, a voice resounded from the stage.

“Welcome lovely townspeople! Today is auction day for perhaps the most prized treasure ever to be brought to your kingdom.”

The Witcher turned back around to see a man dressed in fine clothes fit for royalty smiling and sauntering across the wooden planks. Dark skin, tall stature, impossibly light eyes, and a grin fit for deceit adorned this one who he assumed was named Darian. Most slave traders were never this outlandish in their bravado and dress and it tugged at Geralt’s curiosity.

“Enchanted to be your perfect companion for as long as your coin stretches, these perhaps are my finest works yet. Each with their own talents, you will be assured to have the best experience of your life with one of these,” the man carried on and finally gestured to the stairs up to the stage.

Geralt rolled his eyes at the noises the crowd gave in anticipation that only fueled this man’s ego even more. Enchanted whores? People really came up with the damndest things these days to occupy their time.

“Without further ado, I give you my Mindlings for auction!”

The first was a woman, dressed in a amethyst silk gown that while floor length did not leave much to the imagination. Geralt immediately noticed as she did a twirl for the audience that there was some kind of sigil on her neck hidden beneath her hair. The next woman that came out in a different but slightly revealing purple outfit had the same mark not so hidden this time in the same place. The next two were men, both dressed in theme with their doublets open and shirts buttoned low on their chests. They too had the same mark. Magic was definitely a part of this. This must be what made these Mindlings enchanted. Finally after another woman came the last man who cheerfully stepped on stage with a flourish and a bow before joining the others.

“No.”

Geralt’s heart dropped to his boots. He knew those light blue eyes and side swept brown hair anywhere, even at the distance he was standing from the stage. Proudly standing chest out with his hands folded behind his back was Jaskier dressed in head to toe purple with gold embroidery on his open doublet, smiling and staring out into the crowd with the occasional look to Darian.

What was Jaskier doing up there? He couldn’t have willingly become a magical prostitute, could he? The way that Jaskier didn’t even look at him in the crowd even though he stuck out gave him his answers. There wasn’t even time to process the reality of the situation before the auction began, starting with his bard. 

“This one can play you the most beautiful ballads and his singing voice is not only sweet in the street but also exquisite in bed as well. Who will give me 50 for this young gentleman?”

Anger swept through his body and lit his skin aflame with each vulgar comment and call shouted at him as men waived their coins in the air in his direction. The way that the musician simply smiled in return and looked around aimlessly despite his body about to be purchased told Geralt that there was something wrong. Jaskier had quite the pride in himself and would never stoop this low. This wasn’t what Geralt wanted. This was not the way this reunion was supposed to go. He had to do something before he was sold off to become someone’s plaything.

“Do I hear 100 for him?” Darian pointed to a man in the audience raising his hand and the price was claimed and moved up to 150 as another man shouted out waiving his coins.

“275!”

“500!”

“3,000.” Geralt called out, earning him the attention of every single member of the crowd.

A hush washed over them and the man on the stage paused mid gesture in surprise. A mischievous grin tugged at Darian’s lips but he quickly hid it away to move to the edge of the stage. Geralt’s eyes were fire and threatened to kill anyone who caught their gaze. The slave owner seemed unbothered by this and cleared his throat to project into the crowd.

“My my this is the first time I’ve ever had a Witcher as one of my customers. I assume your money is as good as anyone else’s in this audience,” he looked around in anticipation for someone else to bid but there was just whispers in response, “Well looks like our friend Geralt of Rivia here has won this fine young man. You may claim him at the end of the auction.”

The bard’s smile shined at his new owner and Geralt cursed under his breath. Every second that Jaskier looked at him with no recognition was another scar sinking into his flesh. He thought back to his harsh words when he dismissed the other and if he knew then what Jaskier’s fate would be now, he would take it all back. If he knew how lonely he really was he would have never pushed him away like that. His mind spun in a constant torturous circle as the rest of the auction went on until he could bear it no longer. Just as he took a step forward to just run up there and take Jaskier from Darian, the auction was over and the last human was sold. The enchanted prostitutes descended the stairs off the stage and were escorted to their new owners by their master. Some were bought for just the night, some more nights. Finally Darian led Jaskier over to Geralt where the bard took a small bow.

“Since your bid was so generous Witcher, I will allow you to have him for 4 nights. Remember, in town only. If you try and take him beyond the town’s limits we will have a problem, alright? Try to return him in one piece would you? I know how Witchers get.” Darian sneered at him and Geralt snarled back at him.

Jaskier put his hands on the taller man’s shoulders and ran them down to his chest.

“Don’t worry master. I will make sure he gets his money’s worth,” the bard winked up at Geralt and it caused him to flinch in response as if he had been wounded.

“I’m sure you will…” Darian smirked and looked back to The Witcher.

The mage snapped his fingers and Jaskier’s eyes fixed themselves on Geralt and he began leading him to the nearest inn. At first there was a protest but Geralt finally went with him, silent and rigid as if something repulsive was touching him. Once in their room, which was perhaps the largest room the silver haired man had ever had given to him to sleep in, Jaskier instantly started to pull his doublet off. Geralt grabbed him by the shoulders to stop him and spun him around to be pinned against the door.

“Oh would you prefer my clothes to be on?” He looked confused and cocked his head to the side.

“Jaskier! It’s me, Geralt!” He started to shake the bard gently, desperately searching his eyes for some semblance of his friend.

Only Jaskier simply looked back to him blank and puzzled as if he had never heard that name before. What did that mage do to him that he didn’t even recognise his own name.

“Do you not wish for me to pleasure you, sir? I am meant to fulfill your deepest desires Geralt. There is no shame in asking for me to do things. You may even make me-”

He flinched when he was shaken again, this time harder. Geralt couldn’t even think of doing anything with Jaskier like this, mind controlled. It wasn’t right. If he had to spend the whole night shaking him he would just to end this. The bard slipped from his grasp and dropped to his knees, walking on them to place his face against Geralt’s thigh and nuzzle into his crotch.

“Please let me? I know you want me on my knees.” Jaskier spoke softly and closed in the distance again when the other man took steps back.

If this was soley to torture Geralt, designed up by Darian, then this was the most dispicable kind of torture. Perhaps there were nights where The Witcher had imagined Jaskier on his knees with a thick cock stuffed into his mouth but this was not him. Not the real Jaskier. He quelled his thoughts and pushed the smaller man off him to the floor with a small noise of protest. Geralt went to sit on the bed facing away from the other and ran his palm down his face. He had to get Jaskier to another mage or somehow break the spell himself. There was talk in the last town of Yennifer being in the area a couple days back but crying for her help left a bad taste in his mouth. Again to save Jaskier, she would probably decline since they never got along. There had to be something he could do.

Just as he was wracking his brain for options to save the poor bard, the very person had snuck up behind him and began kissing up his neck. Geralt froze as his lips grazed the shell of his ear, hot breath making The Witcher shiver and curse. One of his few weaknesses was his ears and how the mage charmed his slave into knowing that, he didn’t know. 

“Please let me please you. You can have me any way you want,” Jaskier ran his tongue up his ear and took a gentle bite on the lobe.

In one flurry of moves, Geralt grabbed him by the neck and threw him backwards onto the sheets, climbed up over his thin frame, and pinned his arms above his head on the pillows. The look on the bard’s face could have tipped him over the edge with his face flushed and mouth agape, lips wet and wanting. The Witcher couldn’t pinpoint exactly when he started thinking of Jaskier this way but it was definitely after he rejected him. All those lonely nights ate at him and made him miss his company, unknowingly in more ways than one. There had been dreams of course, but seeing the man actually under him was a whole new experience. But he maintained control, letting go of Jaskier slowly and moving off him. The bard whined and tried to sit up but Geralt’s knee came to rest on his chest, preventing him. His eyes trailed down and he hummed in satisfaction.

“Geralt, you want me. You’re already half hard in your pants.”

The Witcher looked down and cursed, “Fuck Jaskier… I can’t do that to you. Not like this. Not when you’re not yourself. You have to remember. Me, you, your life. Please Jaskier, remember!”

A blank stare was blinked away with a groan and Jaskier’s hands moved up to cradle his head. For the briefest of moments he looked up at Geralt with recognition and fright but suddenly his hands fell away from his head and that same blank stare returned. He got through to him, just a little bit. Just for a second. The mark on the back of the bard’s neck started to glow faintly and he winced. The mark was definitely controlling him but how would he get it removed? It looked like it hurt Jaskier at that moment and it made Geralt seethe. Almost like a dog collar. Despicable. 

Almost as if he’d been reset, Jaskier got up and started to come onto Geralt again, blue eyes half lidded and full of lust.

“Geralt… please…” his voice was soft and needy, making The Witcher swallow hard.

He really wasn’t going to stop. Looking around quickly, he grabbed a piece of cord holding back the curtains and wrapped it around Jaskier’s wrists. Once successfully tied to the bed frame, his squirming body was left there and Geralt got up to get away from him.

“Stay here. I’ll be back.” He moved towards the door despite Jaskier’s pleads for him to stay.

He had to find Yennifer for his own sanity. She could help them.


	2. Temporary Awakenings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was no way to explain that he bought him to save him. The mind control wouldn’t let him understand so Geralt saved his breath and simply leaned his head back on the post. He closed his eyes in frustration and opened them suddenly when Jaskier’s nose brushed his own. He was too late and their lips met, softly and chaste at first. The sensation took Geralt off guard. Despite the overwhelming sadness of their first kiss being under these circumstances, he could feel every nerve ending in his lips spark like a lit fuse.

“No.”

Yennefer attempted to close her door on Geralt but his foot caught it just before she could shut it.

“Yen please.”

The door was once again shut on his foot, this time making him wince.

“Don’t you “Yen” me. You crawl back to find me only to ask me to help your little bard out of a mess he’s gotten himself into yet again. Is that all I’m good for?” Yennefer turned away from the man and glided to a chair in her lavish room. It was quite the nice inn she was staying at and only the best for her.

She opened a book and lounged to the side of her chair, back facing Geralt. He followed her and came round to kneel at her feet. Those enchanting purple eyes glowed in the firelight but did not move from the page she was on. She simply moved her foot to rest on Geralt’s chin to tilt it up and he let her. He must have been desperate.

“Please Yennefer. I would not ask anything of you more,” he asked the ceiling.

There was a short pause before she refused and went back to her book, “Your horny slave boy does not interest me. I would think you would enjoy yourself, having someone on their knees for you.”

Geralt cursed under his breath. Yennefer must think of him as some kind of monster. While most people did, she of all people should know differently.

“Alright then, perhaps you care not for the one enchanted but you may be interested in who enchanted him. Do you know of a mage named Darian?” He removed his chin from Yennefer’s boot and got up, walking over to a window.

Her brows raised ever so slightly and her book was placed in her lap.

“I do,” was all she said.

“I assume he is not well accepted in your world, taking innocents and forcing them to be slaves for a living.”

“I am not a magical constable, Geralt. I could care less what others do.”

He thought of Jaskier tied up on that bed, probably wondering if he was ever coming back. It had been a couple of hours by now and he didn’t want to put the man through any more torture than he was already going through.

“I’ll pay you,” he turned towards her, “Just as a mage for hire. Not for Jaskier, nor for me. Just a job.”

It was a bluff. He had spent all his money on reserving his bard for four days. He had nothing left but…

“No.”

Yennefer didn’t even look up at him and gestured towards the door. Geralt’s heart fell and he let out a heavy sigh through his teeth.

“Well, if you change your mind, we’re in Atlesburg…” he stopped at the doorway and gripped the frame tightly, almost shattering it.

With one pause he left and shut the door behind him. There wasn’t really anyone else to turn to that could make it in time before Jaskier was returned into his life of slavery. Who knew how long he had been like this and how many people had bought him before Geralt. The thought of other’s grubby hands on the bard made his hand twitch for his sword. Killing Darian seemed more and more like a good idea but he couldn’t risk any harm for the ones he was controlling, especially his friend. He was powerful and Geralt didn’t know quite if he could take him or not, even with his skill. And what if he killed the mage but the spell still remained? It wasn’t a chance he could take. Still, he managed to break through to the other just for a split second there. Perhaps if he could work on him, Jaskier could take control. It was something and that was all that mattered.

When Geralt rode back into town, he saw several of the Mindlings out with their owners as if they were a happy couple. It seemed some of the disgusting men were taking them out and showing them the surroundings and of course the spellbound humans were very interested. The Witcher ignored them and made a beeline for his room, opening the door to find Jaskier right where he left him, tied to the bed frame on his back. He was asleep, chest raising and falling softly with each breath. If Geralt didn’t know any better, he almost looked normal.

A creak in the floor boards woke him however, and he blinked a few times before registering the man in front of him.

“Jaskier? Is it you?” Geralt tested in hopes somehow he returned to himself while he was gone.

“Oh Geralt, you’re back!” he replied in that disturbingly empty cheery tone.

Still mind controlled, fuck, he thought. Trying not to be cruel, he leaned over and untied the rope around his wrists and sat back again the far post of the bed, staring at the bard. Jaskier rubbed his wrists and leaned over to try and kiss him in return but Geralt dodged the gesture.

“Why don’t you wish for me to give you affection and pleasure, sir?” The question seemed so harmless.

“Because you’re not you and I won’t take advantage of that,” Geralt replied and it seemed to not register with the other man while he cocked his head.

“But I am here for you to take advantage of. You bought me in the auction. Is this not what you wanted?”

There was no way to explain that he bought him to save him. The mind control wouldn’t let him understand so Geralt saved his breath and simply leaned his head back on the post. He closed his eyes in frustration and opened them suddenly when Jaskier’s nose brushed his own. He was too late and their lips met, softly and chaste at first. The sensation took Geralt off guard. Despite the overwhelming sadness of their first kiss being under these circumstances, he could feel every nerve ending in hips lips spark like a lit fuse. Processing how he felt prevented him from stopping the next kiss which was definitely not chaste in the slightest. Jaskier’s tongue pushed its way into his mouth and he climbed on top of The Witcher, legs spread on either side of his hips. Geralt pushed him back to free his mouth and cursed, trying to hold it together.

“Jaskier, you’re not making this easy.”

The bard moved his hand down his chest and to his stomach to finally rest on his cock through his pants. Geralt grabbed his wrist hard and the other moaned in response. Darian was correct, that bastard, in that Jaskier’s voice was not only good in taverns but his moans sounded incredible. Letting out a shaky breath to try and collect himself, Geralt pushed his hand away. The bard grinded down on his thighs, soft moans escaping his lips with each movement.

“Geralt… please fuck me. I know you want to. I can feel how much you want to just ravish me, tear my clothes off and make me take your cock until I cry. Oh Geralt… please I need it so bad,” he whined and pleaded in rhythm to the movements of his hips dragging themselves over the other man.

If Geralt’s face was red then he would never admit it but his mind was absolutely drowning in lewd thoughts and considerations. Keeping himself under control was becoming almost impossible and he couldn’t help meeting Jaskier’s hip movements with his own. He felt almost absolutely feral, like a savage animal held back from its helpless prey by a thin rope. Gods he wanted to fuck him, absolutely wreck him until he couldn’t move for a week. Pound into him with his thick cock, making sure every inch of himself was inside the other. Watch as he came and continue to fuck him to the point of him begging, pleading, for him to stop from overstimulation. Not stopping until the screams of his name filled the courtyard outside for everyone to know who he belonged to.

“Fuck!”

In one last attempt to gain control over himself, he used his magic and threw Jaskier off of him to collide with the headboard with force that his head made a terrifying cracking noise against the hardwood. Ignoring how his body was reacting he moved to check to see if Jaskier was alright and he noticed the mark’s usual faint glow disappear. 

“Jaskier?! Are you okay?!” He cradled his head in his large hands as the bard blinked slowly in confusion.

“Geralt?” Jaksier mumbled as if he were half asleep.

It sounded genuine.

“Jaskier is that you?” Geralt had to know if there was even one shred of hope.

“Whaddya mean is it me? Where am I?” He looked around and then at the other through eyes squinted as if he was looking into the sun.

“Oh gods it is you! Jaskier, quickly… You’ve been imprisoned as a mind controlled sex slave by a mage named Darian. I bought you at an auction and need to free you in three days time before you go back to him. Tell me, is there anything you can remember about the spell you're under?”

The bard looked positively shocked at all of this as if he had no idea. 

“You can’t be serious, Geralt. This must be a joke?” His voice shook just a little.

He looked off past Geralt and thought hard. His hand moved to rub at the mark on his neck. 

“I don’t really remember anything. I was singing in a tavern I think? And a woman approached me, we found a room, and… I don’t remember waking up the next morning.”

The Witcher shook his head. The woman must have been one of the Mindlings and lured him to his capture. A coward, Geralt thought. Darian using his slaves to make his targets vulnerable enough to enchant. While Jaskier was asleep no doubt. Either he cast his spell on him in the inn or kidnapped him to do it elsewhere. If only he could find that inn to ask some questions, finding clues to better understand who Darian actually was.

“Do you remember anything else? How you were enchanted? A spell that was said? Something that I can use to break it?”

“No… After our, uh, moment together I fell asleep rather quickly I think. I don’t know if she slipped me something or what happened. She didn’t seem magical herself I don’t think; rather overly charming though.” Jaskier shook his head and stared off to the floor, grasping at memories he couldn’t find. 

He did remember a strange man sitting off to the side watching his performance in the tavern, sitting with the woman he took to bed. He whispered something to her before she came over to him. He didn’t think much of it at the time. After they finished their night together, he remembered the faint sound of footsteps outside the door. She whispered something to him...

In a sudden movement he looked back up and before he could open his mouth, the door burst open. Standing in the doorway was Darian looking cross. The Witcher got up and stood between him and Jaskier ready in a defensive stance.

“Now now, didn’t I say to keep him in one piece?” Darian scolded them with a dark look.

“Fuck off mage. You will not lay a hand on him, understand? Your control of him is over.”

Darian simply laughed and took a step forward, earning a snarl from Geralt. Jaskier hid behind him gripping onto his shoulder tightly.

“The White Wolf is simply a guard dog for his little mate hm? What do you think you can do? The moment I put him under my spell, he was mine forever. Not you or another mage alive could break the spell. I know you went and saw Yennefer of Vengerberg. I assume she told you off?” Darian chuckled.

Geralt’s lip curled up and his back foot shifted almost in preparation for an attack. The mage’s eyes shifted down as he noticed the slight movement and flicked up almost bored back to the other’s face. His gaze moved to Jaskier and a sneer formed across his lips.

“Foolish Witcher. Your bard belongs to me now,” he snapped his fingers and the man behind Geralt screamed.

“Geralt!” Jaskier took his head in his hands and writhed on the sheets.

“Jaskier!” Geralt turned and held his shoulders as his bard cried out in pain through gritted teeth. 

This couldn’t be happening. Losing Jaskier once was enough, but now again? What made it worse was that Geralt didn’t know what to do to help him. Sure he knew some magic, but nothing this powerful. Especially nothing powerful enough to stop it. All he could do was hold the other in his arms as his mind was stolen again.

Just as the painful screams began, they vanished. Jaskier fell limp in Geralt’s arms with his eyes wide open, a single tear falling down his cheek with his mouth parted slightly. If The Witcher didn’t feel his breathing against his chest, he would have thought he was dead.

“Now I suggest you keep your actions to be purely sexual, Geralt of Rivia. As a man of business I will still honor our agreement of your temporary ownership over him. You only have 2 more nights with him. Perhaps you should make them last while you can.”

And with that Darian left the room, the sound of his heels echoing down the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter this time.  
> Thanks for reading! I'm going to try and write more in the next coming days to finish this work and to fill out this collection, so be sure and follow my twitter, xursedking, for updates! NSFW warning!


	3. Unbound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He couldn’t think of any plan of action to free his bard of his magical curse that didn’t involve killing the man who placed it. But if he could just snap his fingers to bring Jaskier back under, he might be able to harm him in the same way. Or turn him against The Witcher. He would rather die than have to face Jaskier in a battle. All the possible scenarios of what could go wrong played out in his head while the other watched him silently.

Jaskier sat up and watched the doorway for a moment before turning his eyes to Geralt. The Witcher was watching him intently, searching for that bit of recognition to come back. Searching for anything that was the real Jaskier. But the bard was blank once again.

“Shall we resume our activity?” He said curiously, looking Geralt over.

Before he threw him against the bed frame, there was a slight wistful sing song way to Jaskier’s voice while he was under the spell. It must have been a part of it to make the Mindlings more appealing to their customers. But his words just then seemed a little plain, lacking that disturbing cheer to them. Perhaps since he had to be put under again? But it made Geralt even more upset hearing the lack luster almost sad speech come out of his bard in such a way. Knowing that he was still under the enchanment that made him a sex slave and sounding so empty, it broke him.

“Jaskier…” He took him in a quick embrace before shuffling off the bed away from him.

It almost hurt to look at the bard. Especially since he followed after him and joined him by the window.

“Geralt? Is there anyway I can help ease your troubles?” He placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. Of course he assumed Jaskier meant sexually.

“You can return to your normal self, for starters…” He mumbled under his breath.

The bard moved to stand in front of him and placed his hands on his chest. They always seemed to end up there. Jaskier looked up at him with lidded eyes that seemed emptier than usual. The actions were there but it seemed like his heart wasn’t into it. His slender fingers moved up and threaded themselves into his messy silver hair. The action was so tender and it forced Geralt to close his eyes to savor the moment. A soft kiss was placed on his lips and he almost lost himself in it, imagining the real Jaskier kissing him. He hoped it would feel something like this. But it wasn’t real. He opened his eyes and sighed against the other’s mouth, pulling away to the spellbound man’s disappointment.

He couldn’t think of any plan of action to free his bard of his magical curse that didn’t involve killing the man who placed it. But if he could just snap his fingers to bring Jaskier back under, he might be able to harm him in the same way. Or turn him against The Witcher. He would rather die than have to face Jaskier in a battle. All the possible scenarios of what could go wrong played out in his head while the other watched him silently.

Just then, there was a knock at the door and a piece of paper was slid under it. He didn’t have to even open it to know who it was from. The note smelled of lilac and gooseberries. Unfolding the paper, all it said was the name of a tavern on the edge of town. It was definitely Yennefer’s handwriting as well. What did she want? She had already refused his request to help them. She wasn’t the type to reconsider so perhaps it was fake? But it was her note.

“Jaskier, I’m going out for a bit,” he said to the other as he gathered his things.

“Oh, let me come with you. You still have me as your companion for a while yet. Wouldn’t you like my company?” He trailed after him around the room and took his sleeve when he headed for the doorway.

Was it even safe for Geralt to bring him? Darian would do something to him either way if he found out he was meeting Yennefer, best it would be if the two were together just in case. He’d rather not come back to any surprises. But then again, Darian seemed to always be watching him, perhaps through the eyes of his Mindlings. There wasn’t much of a winning option here so he nodded and Jaskier smiled in victory. The two headed out taking side roads to the tavern where Yennefer told him to meet. Didn’t want any enemy eyes seeing them as much as possible.

Once there, the two entered the building and Geralt could smell her trademark fragrance hanging in the air. He managed to pick her out in a dark corner at a table by herself hood of her cloak up and over her eyes. The Witcher took Jaskier by the arm and led him to the table quickly, sitting down in front of her. There was a short pause before she looked up, eyes shining in the darkness.

“I wasn’t expecting company, Geralt,” she said in a hushed tone glaring at the bard.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be in town,” he countered, “Is it even safe for you? He knows I spoke with you.”

She grimaced and rolled her eyes. Jaskier watched the two of the curiously, seemingly lost in their conversation.

“I’m sure he knows we’re sitting here right now. But that doesn’t matter to me. What matters right now is that we help your little sidekick before it’s too late.” She sighed and pulled out a small velvet bag, setting it on the table.

Geralt looked her over suspiciously. Why was she suddenly changing her mind about this even when she had so forcefully refused earlier that day.

“There must be something in it for you to change your tune so dramatically. What is it?” He leaned forward and reached for the bag which was swiped away from him before he could grasp it.

She placed it back down on the table once Geralt’s hand moved away.

“Not your concern, Geralt. I have my reasons,” she shook her head and looked Jaskier over. “He is under an extremely powerful spell. Darian is unquestionably powerful, I must admit, but not more powerful than me,” she leaned forward and grabbed Geralt’s hand, producing a dagger with the other hand.

Before he could pull away, she sliced into the side of his palm and held his wrist so the blood flowed into the bag. It started to glow faintly the same color as Jaskier’s mark. Yennefer reached over and pulled Jaskier by the doublet around to her side of the table. Grabbing his collar and pulling it down, she dipped her finger into the glowing liquid and traced the mark on his neck with it. Jaskier’s eyes instantly went from mildly confused to panicked. He took in a breath as if he was holding it in and Yennefer covered his mouth just in time to conceal his scream.

Geralt watched this happen intently and saw that when the scream ran out of breath, the mark on his neck faded to just a faint outline. She let him go as he gasped for air and looked rather bored with the outcome even though it seemed Jaskier was coming to his senses. He looked back to Geralt with wide eyes and then to Yennefer.

“What am I doing here? Yennefer? What are you doing here?”

“No time for questions, bard. Darian will know his prize has been released, at least for the moment, so we need to leave here before this tavern becomes a battleground,” she stood up and put away her things, grabbing the two of them to drag them out the back entrance. 

“What did you do, Yen?” Geralt asked as he stumbled after her as she led them down the road to the town’s gate.

“I lessened his power over him. It will take a couple more applications and a final spell but it should be enough so that Darian can’t simply take him over again just like that.”

“Why did you need my blood?”

She smirked, “Someone under such a spell can only be freed from it by someone important enough to them.”

Geralt looked at her confused and she let both of them go turning to face them. Jaskier was still looking frantically around at his surroundings, Yennifer, and Geralt. Possibly for some answers that he couldn’t vocalize the questions to just yet. She clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes, placing a hand on The Witcher’s shoulder.

“Someone they love, Geralt.”

It took a whole full minute for him to process what she said. Jaskier could only be free of the spell by combining a bag of magic powder and the blood of someone he loves. And that someone… was him. It seemed the bard finally understood what Yennefer was saying as well and looked away from Geralt sheepishly.

“Jaskier… you…?” He watched him wide eyes while Jaskier’s gaze wandered on the ground in a guilty manner.

Yennefer cleared her throat loudly and pointed down the street, “Sorry to ruin the moment but we have a guest.”

There Darian stood in the middle of the road as if he appeared out of thin air. Angry was not an emotion that could have described his face. Both Yennefer and Geralt stood in front of Jaskier defensively; Geralt with a hand on his sword and Yennefer with her hands brandished in the mage’s direction.

“Oh both of you just had to try and ruin my day didn’t you…” Darain began to walk forward despite Geralt drawing his sword.

“I told you, your control over him is over,” Geralt felt Jaskier’s grip on his shoulder tighten.

“You think I’m just going to let go of my best seller? This Mindling has made me rich! Countless men have bought and used him, Geralt. You think you’re the first to pay such money for this one?”

Jaskier gasped and took a step back, not letting go of The Witcher’s sleeve. It was all coming back to him now. After that night with the female Mindling, Darian had used his slumber to kidnap him. Submission was required for the spell to work so for a full week he was tortured with magical and physical force. He remembered the cold hard floor of his cell, the crumbs he was fed with stale water. He remembered thinking of Geralt and how he prayed for him to find him, to rescue him. But he never came. Perhaps that was the reason why he eventually submitted to Darian. Knowing that Geralt truly would not even care if he was gone after his harsh words, driving him away. The enchantment process was a painful one. It felt like his head was going to burst, the mark burning into his skin like a brand. After that, there were only little slivers of memories of when he was under the spell. Slight recollections of being with men he didn’t know, standing on a stage, being dressed in lavish amethyst colored outfits to match his owner, and some memories he’d rather not uncover. The thought of being used like some expensive whore for the past four months made him shiver in utter disgust.

Geralt hated the thought too much and it showed in the grip he had on his sword. No one would ever touch him like that again, he swore it.

“And you Yennefer, always sticking your head in places it shouldn’t be. Are you after the bounty on my head or is it just a favor for your ex lover here? Strange of you helping him regain his little crush there,” Darian raised his hands and both of the others shifted their stances in response.

“How do you know all this about us, bastard?” Geralt snarled at him, ready to tear his head off.

He laughed, “Your bard sang quite the song when I discovered him all about you two. You should ask him to sing it for you sometime. Compelling really. Poor thing was heartbroken when you left him, Geralt. I could hear it in his voice. Made it easy to break him.”

Geralt lost it and charged the sorcerer only to be met with a magical force cast by Darian that pushed him back, leaving a trail in the dirt of his boots struggling against it. Yennefer cast magic that sent Darian skidding backwards as an opportunity for Geralt to take a swing at him. He missed by a hair as the man dodged the blow. Magic was not the only thing that Darian brought to the fight. A small blade was brandished that seemed to slide out of his sleeve and grazed Geralt’s cheek.

Yennefer cast a portal and shoved Jaskier at it, “Go! Get out of here!”

He looked back to Geralt first, a mistake for suddenly the pain at the back of his neck was shooting up and down his spine. He screamed and dropped to his knees which distracted Geralt enough to be stabbed in the shoulder by the small blade. He took several steps back, clutching the wound and tried not to look away from his opponent despite wanting to run to Jaskier. He just kept screaming and the mark, which used to be a faint outline, now looked as if it was burning the skin it was over.

“You will not get away from me! You belong to me! Serve me!” Darian shouted and thrust his hand out, making the screams from the bard increase in intensity and volume.

It felt like he was being burned alive from the neck outwards. The pain was too much for him to bear and he keeled over into the dirt, writhing around and screamed desperately for it to stop. Yennefer concentrated and cast magic throwing Darian backwards, earning a short reprieve for the bard who gasped for air as the pain lessened for a moment.

Geralt ignored his wound and went for the mage again, completely fueled by white hot rage. The force of his blade crashing into Darian’s dagger sent sparks into the air as it was knocked from his hand. Another swing cut into his arm in a shallow wound. Darian was fast, but not enough. Geralt landed several hits to his torso, none enough to incapacitate him though. Yennefer shouted for Geralt to move and unleashed a stream of fire from her hands towards the other. Darian casted a shield of magic that covered him from it and attempted to send it back to her but Geralt had other plans. He stepped right in front of it, disappearing in an explosion of fire and smoke. 

“Geralt!” Both Yennefer and Jaskier yelled to him, stunned that he threw himself in front of such a powerful blast.

There was no way he was okay.

Darian grinned and took aim for Yennefer but stopped mid spell. Out of the cloud of flame came the silver blade of Geralt’s sword, running right through the sorcerer’s stomach.

When the smoke and flame settled, Geralt was revealed to be standing in one piece, clothes singed, face dirty, and hair ashy. He was alive. Darian on the other hand stumbled and gripped the sword running through him weakly, trying to pull it out of him.

“Nice try,” Geralt smiled and gritted his teeth, using all the force in his body to swing the sword to slice Darian completely in half.

His torso tumbled to the ground and his lower half followed suit, falling into the dirt in a pool of blood. Yennefer and Jaskier looked on stunned as he walked back to them, bloody sword in hand. The mark on the bard’s neck faded completely from the skin, only leaving behind a scar in its outline. Once in front of the two, he dropped his sword and pulled Jaskier into a tight embrace.

“Glad to have you back,” he mumbled into his shoulder.

“Glad to be back.”

Back in Geralt’s room, Yennefer treated The Witcher’s wounds while Jaskier watched intently. The bard looked tired, you could see it on his face and in his eyes. He had removed his doublet, too repulsed now by the color purple and sat with a wet cloth on the back of his neck to bring down the swelling as well as heat left over in his neck. Geralt wiped his face down with another cloth, removing the soot and ash from his skin. There wasn’t much he could do about the singed hair and clothes but he was rather happy he even was able to endure that blast at all. Although one question had still been unanswered.

“Yen, tell me. Did you do all this for me or for the reward on his head?” He looked up at her from his seat on the bed inquisitively.

She frowned and looked away as she tied the last knot in his bandage.

“I guess it was a little bit of both. But you can take the reward. You technically killed him.”

Geralt hummed and shook his head, “While I hunt monsters, and this man was one, I think the reward should go to all his slaves. When they come to, it will help them get back to their normal lives once again.”

“Always the altruist.”

Jaskier watched them but remained silent leaning against the bedpost, eyes boring a hole into the sheets. More and more memories were coming back to them and it was very difficult to process them all. Yennefer went into the other room to fetch more towels and Jaskier finally spoke.

“I’m sorry Geralt...” The bard told him softly without raising his eyes.

“For what? I’m the one who should be sorry,” he replied gently.

“For trying to seduce you while under that spell…”

A pang of guilt crossed Geralt’s face. Not that he really had anything to be guilty of. He didn’t take advantage of the other man while under Darian’s influence. But he thought the guilt was mostly from the times he almost lost it and the thoughts he had about the bard while he was on top of him.

“You remember all that?”

“Yes.” 

He did. Every last detail. Geralt especially felt guilty then.

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

There was an awkward silence. Yennefer came back with fresh towels and felt the tension in the air between the two men. She placed them on the end of the bed and nodded at Geralt before moving out of the room to the downstairs tavern. Jaskier looked up under his bangs at the other and chuckled sadly.

“So I guess this means goodbye after all this? I doubt you’d want me hanging round again.”

It broke Geralt’s heart to hear him say such a thing.

“I was a fool to send you away, Jaskier. An utter fool. I realised that after you’d been gone but was too much of an idiot to try and get you back. I thought you wouldn’t want me back after I was so cruel to you,” he smiled sadly.

“I… It was mean of you… but I couldn’t stop thinking about you even after I left. I uh…” Jaskier trailed off and looked away.

“You love me?” Geralt finished it for him.

The bard’s mouth pressed into a thin line, unable to hide the fact that he was correct. He wanted to tell him of course! He had loved him the second he saw him in that tavern where they met. 

“Yes, but it’s alright if you don’t love me…” A blatant lie.

“Jaskier, I wouldn’t have done all this for you if I didn’t love you. I love you. Really.”

He looked up into those piercing yellow eyes that were full of tenderness. He could have cried right there, hearing that his feelings were reciprocated. It had been so many years and finally his heart felt like it would burst. Tears started to form and he laughed. Geralt reached up and wiped them away with his thumb, cradling the bard’s soft face with his rough hand. Jaskier couldn’t help but lean into the touch. The first sweet touch he’s had in four months and it was Geralt’s.

“Jaskier…”

“Hm?”

The Witcher leaned forward and brought the other’s face up to his, placing the gentlest kiss on his lips. Jaskier absolutely melted into it, softly sighing in utter joy. When Geralt broke the kiss, both men were smiling, a rarity for one of them but so worth seeing.

“You forgive me?” Geralt raised his brows.

“I think I can do that,” Jaskier replied playfully.

Another kiss was placed on his mouth.

“Stay with me? Travel with me again?”

Jaskier leaned forward and stole a quick kiss.

“Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed this little fic  
> Follow my nsfw twitter, xursedking, for more updates on the next works in this series.
> 
> Listen to Another Place by Bastille, it's a great ship song!

**Author's Note:**

> Something short that never got beta'd lol. New chapter should be up soon.


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